


Halo ; "The Mantle," of Responsibility

by insomniacOlympian



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Elites | Sangheili - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Halo 4, Halo 5: Guardians, Human-Covenant War, Post-Halo 5, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regret, SPARTAN Program, SPARTAN-II, SPARTAN-III
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-01-20 15:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacOlympian/pseuds/insomniacOlympian
Summary: After the events of Halo 5: Guardians, Master Chief is unable to sleep while bunking in a Swords of Sangheilos tent with the rest of Blue Team.This is really only for those people who are deep into the fandom, lore & have read the novels by Eric Nylund, the newer ones by Karen Traviss and so on- although hey, if you're into the story line of the games, you'll probably like it anyway, just not get a lot of the connections.
Relationships: Cortana/John-117 | Master Chief, John-117 | Master Chief/Kelly-087, John-117 | Master Chief/Linda-058, John-117 | Master Chief/Samuel-034
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	1. Creations

"Spartan 117?"

"The'' Master Chief?" (Petty Officer 1st Class?) 

John.. what? John 117?

John found himself completely unable to sleep. He'd been trying his hardest to lose consciousness for almost an hour and a half now. With no luck, even having used every mental trick he'd been taught during the years of training from his childhood. Not to mention ones he'd picked up from UNSC rank and file personnel in the years since, during both the conflicts with the Insurrectionists and the Covenant. None of it was working. 

When it came to battles on a scale this small, even he knew when to accept that he was beaten. The last few weeks had obviously put him under more strain then he'd realized. 

Almost instantly, he wondered if the same could be said for the other 3 surviving members of Blue Team. Losing Cortana for a second time had been a hugely personal wound, yet they'd worked with her themselves during Operation: "First Strike." Talked with her on the voyage back to Earth and heard of her from him multiple times since. All of them had felt betrayed- both to themselves & for him. All 4 of them had fought on the Argent Moon, Meridian and finally, Genesis, together, too. 

Not to mention that unlike him, they hadn't really been obligated to join in on those last 2 conflicts either. No matter if they felt they were. 

He found himself sitting up, moving the blanket he'd been laying under aside. Standing up as quietly as he could- which was very, very quietly. The armor and reputation made people forget that for all the strength and larger then life presence their augmentations and training gave the Spartans? It also allowed them to be far smaller then they actually were, too. Whenever they wanted to be. 

Wolves.

Kelly would appreciate that, he thought - as he briefly looked her over. She was on the bunk above his, of course.

Whenever he slept in a bunk bed set-up and not a single bed, he always slept on the bottom bunk. 

She was turned away from them, facing the wall and metaphorically turned away from the world. John wondered what she was dreaming about, if she was. 

With his own dreams and nightmares & the ones she'd chosen to share, he could only imagine. There was nothing he could do for his childhood best friend but make sure she was alright and to all appearances, she was sleeping soundly. Best to put Kelly out of his head. Their "Rabbit" was sleeping, at least. Dreaming or not. 

He found himself crossing his arms as he looked Fred over, next. The Spartan ll's 2nd in command had the same pose even in his sleep and John couldn't help but smile slightly for it. Like him, Fredric had never learned how to switch off- he just still felt more of a need to appear humorless about it. Not that John could or would ever blame him for that. The man was facing upwards, eyes closed & dead to the world, chest moving slightly from his breath but otherwise still. Good. 

Last but not least, John found himself looking up at the top bunk across from Kelly's to check on Linda and for a second, his heart skipped. Their "Lone Wolf" was awake as well and sitting up in her bed, legs crossed with her blanket laid over them and staring right back at him. 

"You couldn't sleep either. Huh, Chief?" 

She whispered that quietly, leaning over a bit with a small smile on her face to match his own. 

Sam and Kelly had been the first of the other Spartan ll's he'd befriended and besides them, Linda, William & Fred had always been the ones he was closest to. Yet she'd always been someone he was a little more fond of, too. A mutual feeling, really. 

He shrugged. "This isn't Europa, Linda." 

When the rest of Blue Team had mocked her old shame from a training exercise long since past right before Operation: First Strike, he'd felt the need to keep an emotional distance from the gallows humor, as their leader. He didn't anymore. Soldiers weren't machines and neither were their leaders. John had learned that from so many men, women & people in positions of authority that he couldn't name them. It'd just taken so long to sink in. 

It'd been a lesson that had only really started to bring out his sense of humor from the days of the Fall of Reach & onwards. 

"Very funny, John. Are the last few weeks really bothering you this much?"

She took a breath. 

"Months, maybe? Years?"

"I think so. Maybe. They could be." Was his short answer. The Spartan ll found himself stepping over quietly to lean against the wall next to Fred & Lindas bunk and stare down at the floor. Thoughts of Cortana made him very, very uncomfortable when he was talking about them to anyone that hadn't been close to him and the AI & unfortunately? Blue Team hadn't been included in that stage of his life besides one part of it.

"We could step outside and talk about it, if you wanted." She suggested. John looked up to meet her gaze, only to find his counterparts eyes roaming over the entrance of the Sangheili made tent. Her stare went to Kelly and then Fred before it returned to him. 

"I appreciate it. I actually wouldn't mind, either.. but I'd rather take a walk on my own first though, Spartan." He told her, before he looked back to the entrance.

"I need to clear my head, Linda." John admitted. "After, though? If you're still awake?" 

"Sure. I probably will be anyway, Chief. I've been worrying about the four of us, tonight. Halsey, too. Everyone, actually."

At least he wasn't alone, there. 

"I might leave to go for a walk myself, actually?" She said suddenly. "I'd just need to get my Rifle, first." 

Before, just now? John just hadn't known what to say before Linda continued. That last sentence truly stopped him. 

"Why would you need your Sniper Rifle outside of a combat zone? The last of the Covenant have been killed or captured."

For all of the difference it'd ended up making for Humanity, 4 years after truce time. 

The end of the Covenants last remnant as Sangheili politics. Only the Arbiter could tell him how many had to die for that.

"Yes, but a weapon with a scope like that isn't just for killing things." Was her solemn answrr. 

He thought of grassy hills with huge temples that shined with silver with every burst of blue energy they shot off, on the part of Halo he'd landed on. Of the dune bluffs under the Truth and Reconciliation. The snowed out wastes around the Control Room with Covenant, Flood & Sentinel ruining every part of it with their battles. The rusting and opulent streets of New Mombassa. The verdant lands that had been his first experience of the Delta Halo. The immense vista that High Charity had offered and the deserts of Voi. Requiem. So on and so forth. 

Even with his helmet off, John gave Linda the Spartan ll's "smile" gesture- middle and pointer finger put to the eyes before going over the mouth. 

She repeated the little bit of sign language, a real one on her face in its aftermath. Oly Oly Oxen Free. 

"I can wait to leave if you want to first. I think both of us dressing at once would wake these two up." Was his suggestion- finding himself glancing between Fred and Kellys sleeping forms. 

"I'm fine with waiting, Chief. I think you need to head out sooner then I do." Linda replied, rather pointedly at that. 

".. thanks." He said, quietly. He turned away from the other Spartan ll and sat back down on "his" bed, reaching over for a pair of socks first.

"I'm sorry about Cortana." Was her sudden statement. John glanced at her for a moment and then went back to pulling on the socks. 

"Go on?"

"I know you loved each other and that both seems and is a bit strange but I really don't think that matters. I get it. This is the second time in a row you've had to lose her. It must be really hard." 

By the time Linda had finished speaking, he'd already pulled on "his" socks as well as a t-shirt. His answer came as he stepped into a pair of pants and then reached down to grab a pair of fatigues. 

"It is hard & I'll still get over it. Like you said, I was already grieving for her. I just need to think about what it will be like now that she's the one we're fighting against, now." He told the other Spartan, looking down at his body and buttoning up his shirt. Trying to get rid of emotional distance was one thing. Talking about this was another. 

"Or other AI's." He added.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Linda bringing her legs over the bed. Legs that with the gene-saga the Librarian had given him on Requiem, he noticed were incredibly toned for an entirely different reason then his usual plain appreciation of muscles. John had been having more and more thoughts like this recently. Along with the grief, guilt, regret and what he knew to be PTSD, it was almost too much even for him. He had to get out of here.

Linda was practically like a sister to him. Even if they managed to step past that if John said anything, she'd only appreciate the idea emotionally and mentally. As far as he knew, he was the only Spartan ll that had been returned to "normal." In one sense, at least. 

Ironically though, her being like a sister was exactly why he looked to her as she spoke again. 

"It makes me think of our 1st mission." Was her whispered statement. "On Colonel. Watts asteroid base? When we had to blow out the airlocks to escape." 

"When we killed non-combatants." He said flatly. Most people would think of that kind of bluntness as cruel but he knew Linda and she knew him. This was going somewhere. 

She was looking to the floor now, the snapshot of Human misery. In his 40's by now, he'd seen that look in more women, men & people then he could count. 

"Yeah." Was her one word response, Linda-058 currently both the young girl he'd trained with and the preteen, teenager and woman he'd destroyed with, all in one. His heart was suddenly in his throat. John had dealt with this sort of thing with the Spartan ll's, average Humans, Cortana - even members of Covenant species - but it was like relearning it. Every single time. 

"I still feel bad about that day, too. Kelly and Fred must." Not good enough. "I'm sure Sam would too,if he was here." He added. 

"I know, John. That does makes it a little easier. I'm just thinking." "You could tell me that we were young and inexperienced. Or that even if we weren't, we still didn't have any options. That's true and it makes it easier, too."

He was quiet, with a voiceless question mark from the way he looked to the other Spartan. This was going somewhere. 

"It still goes against everything they taught us about ourselves and everything they left underneath, too. It was still wrong."

"They were Insurrectionists-" He suggested gamely. 

"-but innocent ones. "Defenders of Earth and all her colonies" fighting them or not." 

He glanced over at the entrance. Yes. He had very mixed feelings about Catherine Hasley.

"Meridian?" Was his next question. 

"Yes. It's easier to sympathize, after the war. The Insurrectionists were all colonists at one point or another." 

"Tell me about it." he said sourly. If his life had gone differently, he might have even ended up joining the rebellion that had ended up brewing in the Epsilon Eridanus system. The very same one they'd personally encountered. Twice. John blinked. Crap. Looked back to her. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay, Chief. Really. We don't talk about things like this half as often as we should." 

"No, we don't. It's not the same with Cortana, though."

"Oh? Why?" 

This had been brewing inside of him for a few years, now. Sometimes it wasn't about talking about things as often as you should- just saying them. 

"She's not an innocent or a non-combatant. Almost everything I did on Halo. Afterwards, capturing - actually, on Ascendant Justice? Returning to Reach? "First Strike?" Earth? The Delta Halo? Once I was with her again on the Ark? On Requiem & The Didacts ship? That was as much her as it was me and it's why I never like to take full credit for any of those campaigns. She saved my life multiple times. Made me faster, smarter & stronger just by how we were connected and fed me data constantly." He took a breath. "She was just there for me to talk to. Saw and felt all of it." 

Time to take another, Spartan. 

"She chose to change for the worst and maybe there are reasons we don't know about yet. If there aren't, though? Feeling bad for her isn't why I'll feel wrong facing "the Created." Even though I really do."

"It'll be because you know each other." Linda summed up, leaning forward again. 

"Yes." he said shortly, looking back down as he reached over for "his" boots. 

"That's what gets me, though." The woman told him.

"What?" He asked, rolling up one pant leg. Then the other. 

"She was there for you that whole time when we weren't. These two were stuck on Reach and I was in cryo during everything on Halo. Plus, if it wasn't for you two? I might be dead." 

"Go on?" He suggested for the second time tonight, guessing where this was going already. 

"When we were reporting to ONI, she was with you on the Cairo. When we were fighting on other parts of Earth, you two were in New Mombasa. Same for the second Halo. We were on Onyx. Sorry. Treyvalyn and you're in High Charity. Then we finally get out of there and you two.. You're both MIA."

"Which is a loaded staterment for us."

"Spartans never die." We held out hope for weeks, Chief." 

"Thank you." He conceded with a smirk. It was sort of mean but he was trying really hard to be friendly. It hadn't occured to him how awful the other three members of Blue Team would feel about how alone he & Cortana had been. He hadn't had time like that. "What are you trying to say, Linda?" 

"You're finally back with us and this amazing A.I! This woman. That'd helped us too, once. Who /I/ listened to the copies of going insane back on the Unyielding Hierophant, by the way." 

"Sorry." 

"It wasn't really herbut thats not my point anyway. It's just that once you're finally back with us, she's dead and you're just.. here. It's the worst I've ever seen you."

He inclined his head. Besides fighting the Didact again, Blue Team had been on milk runs until the Argent Moon & he knew exactly why. All of them pitied him, yet except for Thomas Lasky and Johns team? None were willing to say why. 

"I can't imagine it. You've told all of these stories about her and how you two helped each other and what it's like having an A.I. in your head and I still can't. You two had all the times in between battles too, right?" 

He smiled.

"Yes." 

It was true. He and Cortana had had just as much time to talk- including with others, like Sgt. Johnson- as they'd had time where they'd had to get to work. 

"So..?"

"She's back from the dead and the exact opposite of everything you've told us about." Was Lindas conclusion, a tone of bitterness in her voice. She had been thinking about this. 

"Friend and a partner. Gone. I just feel horrible for you, Chief. It makes me wonder about her, too."

"We won't know more until we speak to her again." He said, pulling on one boot. 

"And you shouldn't feel horrible for me. I don't." Is what John told her next, pulling on the other. Hm.

"I feel bad about it. I'm not sorry, though. Cortana and I aren't the only people in the galaxy. Or the only couple who have "had a.. disagreement." 

Linda covered her mouth then to choke back a laugh. John leaned back on his bed, waiting for her to speak. 

"That is true. You should've seen Dr. Hasley and Mendez on Treyvalyn together. All of that mans guilt came out of him for days. Especially with how much she distrusted those poor Spartan 3's."

Curious. He'd heard plenty about the planet Onyx. Not as much about the times in the Dyson Sphere of Treyvalyn, though. 

"I could stand to hear about "poor" Spartan 3's."

"War orphans." Was Lindas prompt answer. "At least our childhoods were cut off at 6 years old. In peace time. We got to forget quickly. These kids never got the chance. Anywhere between 4 to 12 years old. All from planets attacked by the Covenant." 

Ouch. 

"Why didn't Dr. Hasley trust them, then?"

"The drugs that Kurt started injecting the later detachments with? They came with a risk of losing your mind without medication. She thought they couldn't tough that out for a few weeks." 

John nodded. Hasley was a genius and a great scientist. What some might call a visionary. She was also prone to being wildly inconsistent and a massive hypocrite, not that he blamed her for it. He supposed it came with the territory. 

"Mendez wouldn't take kindly to that." 

"Oh, like you wouldn't imagine. One of them? Lucy?"

He recognized the name but hadn't heard much about her.

"The mute one?"

"Not anymore. She ran into some original Forerunner era Engineers-"

"I didn't know any were that old." SHIT. 

"Oh, there are. Dr. Hasley started pressing them on ways to leave Treyvalyn- still Onyx then, I suppose- and Lucy snapped. Screamed "NO" and punched her in the face." Linda said with a raucous smile on her face, hushed speech having risen to a stage whisper. 

A truer Spartan hadn't existed. Punch out the woman who you know raised & trained the armored giants around you, the ones your whole life is modeled after? Around them? Tough kid.

"Good kid." Linda said, obvious fondness in her voice. "After that, Hasley wanted her sectioned off while Mendez was overjoyed. Welcomed her back. You know how he is."

"Yes. They were lucky to have him there instead of just Kurt." 

"You know it. I really think if Naomi and Serins team hadn't shown up, he would have ended up killing her." 

Wait.

"That was when you found out that Serin was still alive?" He asked.

Linda blinked.

"Chief. I should've told you. Yes, it was."

That was interesting. Serin had been one of the washouts from the augmentations that he was never able to track down- he'd managed to catch up with her eventually once she debriefed him about the New Phoenix incident - but he hadn't known she'd been there when Hasley was arrested. 

Been part of the arrest, herself?

"Did she seem alright to you?" 

"ONI did someone good for once, Chief. She was confident about everything she was put onto."

"The head of ONI." He said, a swell of pride in his voice. John had never expected something like that for one of the Spartan ll's and it was still something he mulled over frequently. 

"A Spartan ll." Was Lindas short reply, sounding rather pleased. 

"Maybe we should ask her if we could finally get paid." He suggested slyly. 

This was a dull joke. Any Spartan ll could retire if they really wanted to- by law and in proven reality. Maria had shown them that. Especially with the Spartan 4's, nowadays.

It's just that they chose not to. What were they going to do with themselves away from the military? 

"We could finally get that vacation time." Linda said. 

"Settle on an Outer Colony world."

"Chop up some logs." 

"Sign autographs." 

"Are you alright, Chief?" Was his comrades sudden question. 

Right back to his boots, with that. Tying them up as he answered.

"No. I'm hoping I'll be after this walk." 

"Me too. We should keep talking once we both get back."

"I'd still like to but I really don't know how long I'll be." He said shortly, standing up and giving Linda a shrug. The other Spartan nodded and climbed down from her own bed, stepping over to clasp his shoulder and move close to him. 

"You're not the only one. Just be good to yourself, Chief. John?"

"Yes?"

"You deserve it." 

What was there to say to that? He felt like Samuel was standing right next to the both of them. 

"You too, Linda." John said. Reaching over to clap at her own back, he rather spontaneously reached up to ruffle her hair. Linda blinked and then smirked, letting herself lean into the touch. 

"This is new for you, boss." She said quietly, crossing her arms. He didn't say anything. 

Just pet downwards.

It was very, very sad that he'd only done this to people that needed comfort- never to anyone he wanted it from, or vice versa. He'd known this woman for years. All he could think of was when she'd dyed her hair blue after the augmentations. Some small, hateful part of his brain throbbed at the thought. Time to leave. Step off, Spartan. 

"Chief."

Or not? 

He turned at the entrance to look at his compatriot- bathed in the light of the fires and alien moon outside. He thought of going back for her during First Strike and finding her between light and dark, suspended upside down by wires around one leg and still making perfect shots.

"Yes?"

"If you run into any hinge-heads or gas-masks tonight? Remember we're not allowed to kill them anymore."

He gave her a lazy salute & stepped out into the Swords of Sangheilos camp.

Sometimes, the old ways really were best. If he was too restless to sleep, a walk might be able to tire him out where nothing else would. Sleep was very important, after all. Or at least rest was.

It's just that John suddenly had the feeling that it was going to be a very, very long night.


	2. Under Cover Of Night

The outside world- the Sword of Sangheilos camp. Sanghelios itself. It had a completely different feeling to it then the inside of Blue Teams tent, especially after the conversation he and Linda had just had inside. 

There'd been a lot of ground to cover.

The air felt amazing on his bare skin and John let out a long, long sigh as he looked around. There wasn't a single other living thing in sight.

Not the Arbiter or Hasley. Not Fireteam Osiris. Not a single Human, Sangheili or Unngoy at all.

There weren't even any animals around- not that he could see, anyway. 

No, the only shadows in the camp from the fires and full moon overhead were cast by the tents. The rocks and trees and soms shrubs. The canyon walls rising above either side of the array of tents like vanguards, too. 

He'd been in hundreds of places like this in his life but despite Lindas dark joke about not being allowed to kill any of the ex-Covenant species here, the thought had never even crossed Johns mind. 

He felt protected by the Sangheili and Unngoy here. By the Swords of Sangheilos.

John only hoped that all of them felt the same way about him and the Spartan 4's & 2's. 

After all, it wasn't home but it felt like it. Not as much as Earth would and definitely not as much as Epsilon Eridanus and yet the alien moon casting light onto red stone could belong to any Human colony he'd been to.

John knew that there was a lot of resentment between Covenant & Humans, even among those who were allied. He didn't share it, though. 

He couldn't. It wasn't the way his mind worked, although he didn't dare share that publicly. 

The two empires citizens & soldiers had to make peace, not be told to. It shouldn't but it still surprised him that other people couldn't forgive enemies who had been lied to & pretty much enslaved.

Hadn't he himself jumped on the chance to tell the Arbiter that "This thing is right. Halo is a weapon. Your "Prophets" are making a big mistake," as soon as the Graveminds own attempts to reach the Sangheili leader gave him a chance to? 

After the events on both ring worlds, Humans & Covenant alike not only knew that Humanities was "Destruction is the will of the Gods-" but the rest of the lies about those "Gods" the Prophets had told their poor followers. He'd known why the Arbiter believed as he did - it was all any Elite had known. Once that was out of the way, John couldn't not extend his duty to protect Humanity to protecting personhood in general. 

Things changed.

Hadn't he asked Cortana "I thought we had a truce with "The Covenant?" once a member of Jul Mdamas Covenant Remnant group had tried to kill them, on the Forward Unto Dawn.

They weren't enemies anymore. They might never have been if things had gone differently, although he put that thought out of his mind quickly.

Yes. Despite his comrades joke, John felt safe here even despite the last couple of decades.

He guessed that was another thing that made him strange.

It didn't change the fact he felt restless about Cortana, though. The "Guardians." The Created.

Actually? It made his restlessness worse. He had a lot more beings to worry about, now. 

Speak of the Devil - he could hear Linda rummaging around for her own clothes. John started to walk to the adjacent tent where Blue Teams armor, bodysuits and other equipment had been stored. For some reason, he wanted to dress plainly for once, despite always feeling naked without the Mjolnir armor.

That being said, he still meeded his helmet. The Spartan just needed something to carry it in. 

What a surprise, too- Dr. Hasleys bag was conspicuously close to the stand his Mjolnir suit was placed on. 

"Thinking about me, Doctor?" He asked quietly, to no one but the emptiness in his neural lace. 

Hasleys own feelings on him had to be just as mixed as the ones he had about her. One thing that had never been unknown was that he was her unabashed favorite, though. The one she was the most proud of. He'd used to feel aglow with that pride if somewhat uncomfortable for the other Spartans sake. She'd chosen all of them and they were a team she also chose him to lead. It was bad for morale. 

Nowadays it was more that he understood that favoritism & pride objectively just for his accomplishments as that discomfort had long since outstripped the glow. He didn't feel that he should be honored for doing what was expected of him by himself or anyone else, no matter how humongous the battles he'd won./p> 

He'd cared less and less about being "the best" and conventional victory ever since Captain Keyes had spoken to him after the Battle of Sigma Octanus 4. 

He & the Spartans had seen too many losses.

It took you long enough, indeed. He'd have to have it out with her, soon. Tell her that for all he was, he was just a man. He didn't resent someone who'd had a gun to their head, too. She was the closest he'd ever had to a mother and made it obvious she saw him as a son. A long, long talk about those two things was overdue with the fact she'd lost two daughters, now. For now, her bag would do him some good. 

John stepped up to the Mjolnir armor for what felt like the thousandth time, almost mechanically moving past it to a nearby table. When the suit was powered down, you needed tools to release the helmet manually. It was delicate and slow work and there was some comfort in the familiarity of the routine. Once it was free of the neck seal, he made sure to prop it over slightly so it couldn't fall.

He really didn't feel like waking up the whole camp. 

Took the tools back to their table and then leisurely reached over to snatch the helmet. Walked over to the bag and stopped to stare at the visor he was usually looking out from.

So this is what everyone on the battlefield saw, friend or foe? 

With the gasps and stares he'd gotten every time he'd taken it off- a memory of Melissa Mckay looking horrified at Halo's Alpha Base suddenly hit him- he didn't know which was worse.

The Covenant had called the Spartans "Demons."

Then again, they'd also called ODST's "Imps" and any marine with a visor "Implings" and had been religious lunatics, so. Useless thoughts. Nothing he could do for it. 

John lowered the helmet and put his other arm through the loop of Hasleys bag, shouldered it and then stepped over to another table. He was quiet as he placed his signature helm down, even quieter as he emptied out Dr. Hasleys bag. John was fine with burrowing it. 

Doing so while it was full of her own things? No thank you. 

Once the helmet was stashed away, he was ready. For what, he didn't know- he felt right, though. 

"I can hear you in there, Chief." Linda whispered from the other side of the tent. 

"I thought I'd give you some space but what are you doing?" 

He shrugged as he stepped through the flaps that made up a doorway, gesturing to the bag. 

"I needed my helmet with me." 

She nodded knowingly. 

"Well, I need my baby. Excuse me." She said promptly, shouldering past him. He could hear her muttering about "maybe I should get mine just to have a better view?" At least the other three members of his team were going to have a better night then he would. John knew what he was in for. 

Where, though? 

Walking to the cliff was useless. Heading through the camp, down the rocks and up the canyon would be nothing but depression. 

John found himself looking around and that's when it hit him. The paths going up to either side of the canyon. Lit by the moon. Good visibility. High ground. Scenic. Isolated- the only person he might run into would be a sentry or another sleepless person.

It was perfect. 

He had a feeling someone he knew would feel the same way, though. 

"Linda?"

"Yes, Chief?" She asked, stepping out of Blue Team's tent with her Sniper Rifle cradled in her hands. The other Spartan was holding the weapon to her chest, almost protectively. "What is it?"

"Is there any chance you were going to head up either side of the canyon?"

For the third time tonight, she blinked. 

"You know me too well. Yes, I was. Same view as the cliff face but with less chance of falling to my death."

"Right."

...

"Well, pick a side then, Blue. I still want time alone." 

"Yes, sir!" She said glibly, giving him a smirk before looking from side to side. He noticed then that without a bag, she'd strapped her own helmet to her back. 

For a moment he wondered how the visors would even work without being attached to a power source but Linda would probably be the type to fix a problem like that. Spotters and snipers had to improvise, a lot of the time. 

"How about I go right and you go left?" The other Spartan asked.

"Works for me. I'll see you later, Blue-4."

"Until then, Blue 1. Be good to yourself." She added, stepping off at the same moment he did. 

Now it was time for the real part of the night to begin. John wouldn't bother thinking about any of this until he was above the canyon and he knew he was alone. His best thinking was with a group or partner- or alone. Tonight, he'd rather have the last. 

Isolation and solitude were good, provided they weren't accompanied by swamps or "Libraries" full of murderous alien zombies. 

He'd been trapped with Blue Team for weeks, too. There was no one else in the world he'd rather fight with but in hindsight, it'd been suffocating after Requiem. 

Of course, the thought of suffocation had him looking to the sky- which stopped the Spartan in his tracks. He was having a flashback. A rare one, too- a memory from Epsilon Eriadanus. John had been laying in a field, with a neighbourhood girl. He couldn't remember her name now but he remembered their conversation. 

In a world where you were banned from holo-chess and gravball because you always won, where you suspected every game of King of the Hill on the playground might be your last? 

He'd loved her. 

The trigger? They'd both been staring at the stars like he'd just been, just enjoying each others presence. Then, he'd thought of something. 

"Do you ever wonder what's /up/ there?"

He found himself mouthing his own, 6 year old selves words. 

She'd been confused. The confusion was as clear to him now as it'd been then, even though he hadn't encountered children anywhere besides battlefields or areas with refugees for a long, long time. 

"Like what?" had been his friends own question.

Pure imagination, that was what. The age old question he'd never expected the answers to, let alone the way he'd gotten them. 

"Maybe someone up there is wondering what it's like here." Was his wistful suggestion, said just as much for himself as for her. John had alwats wanted to touch the stars - or more accurately the planets around them - ever since he was old enough to know what both were. 

"I guess." She'd said shortly. He'd been worried, SO worried that he'd lost this conversation like so many others with his big ideas- not with an adult, either. Another kid! 

Then she'd perked up and smiled though, something he could see out of the corner of his eye. He'd felt amazing, like he had every time he managed to make others feel the same way he did, about the world. 

(wanted to?)

"Do you think we'll ever meet them?" Had been the follow up question. God.

"I hope so. Don't you?" 

He couldn't remember what her answer was. John hoped she was alright, if she was still alive out there, whoever she'd been. Time hadn't been kind to the Eridanus system. 

The man was at the top of the plateau now and there was a problem. He could see the distinctive silhouette of a Sangheili was there on a rock in front of the edge of the plateau. Whoever it was, they were looking out unto the distant parts of their world.

Do you think we'll ever meet them?

Yes, but not right now. 

Still. As childish as it was, John found himself sneaking up on the alien as he prepared to announce himself, looking over the silhouette to try and make out any details. For some reason, he had a suspicion that this was the Arbiter and if it was.. 

Well. Maybe he could stand to have more friends in his life.

As the alien looked up to the moon and shifted slightly, sighing, that suspicion was confirmed. 

The voice. The unarmored arm. The helmet. 

This wouldn't be a problem, then. He knew this Sangheili. 

John came to a stop and coughed loudly, waiting until his old friend turned before he spoke.

"Arbiter."

"Spartan! Spartan 117?"


	3. Reclaimers

"That's me." John told him, spreading his arms apart in a small shrug. 

"So it is." The Arbiter said in an almost observational tone, looking the uncharacteristically dressed down Spartan over with open curiousity. 

A Spartan who could see the Sangheili leaders eyes land on the bag at his hip, gaze staying on it. 

"Do you mind if I join you?" Was the sudden prompt that he gave the Arbiter, his own eyes on the aliens face. 

That got him eye contact and the clicking of mandibles he'd learned was the Elites version of a shrug. 

"No. I don't. Although I have to tell you something if this is a.. "social call?" Is that right?"

Bloody Elisa. John smiled as he stepped over to his old friends perch. 

"You got it right." He confirmed. "What is it?"

The alien was still watching him as he leaned back, hands going from his thighs to the stone at either side of him in a posture that could be any Humans. 

It was unsurprising but still noticeable. Sangheili body language mirrored that of any person from Earth and her colonies. 

"My name. It's Thel." The Arbiter said, head cocked to the side a bit. 

"Thel Vadum." He added. 

"I knew that already. Thanks, though."

Thel let out something between laughter and a hiss, a warbling sound that filled the air even as he bowed his head, still eyeing John at the same time. 

Then he was looking at him, again. 

"Mine is John. John 117." The Spartan said quietly, suddenly uncomfortable with the bag held over his shoulder. 

It seemed kind of arbitary, right now. No pun intended. 

"I knew that already as well." Was the Sangheilis tease. "Thank you, though."

John just nodded. 

"Well then, "John." 

Thel paused. "John.. would you like to sit with me?"

Linda was fine, right now. The other two Spartan ll's were asleep (or at least faking it) and Lockes Fireteam "Osiris" as well as Dr. Hasley had been nowhere to be seen, tonight. 

"I wouldn't mind." The man admitted, unshouldering his bag as he walked over and tossing it aside before he sat down. 

Sighed. 

"The old intel reports on you were how I found out about your name."

"Spartan Lockes?" Thel suggested. 

"Right. He said that your name was Thel Vadumee," John told him, stressing the last two vowels. 

"It was my name during the war but.. even then, it wasn't. Our soldiers added an "ee" to the end of their names once they joined the Covenant."

"So all of you must have taken that back once the Covenant fell apart."

"Right."

There was silence, then. Neither of them wanted to blame Thel for his time as a military commander. 

It wasn't fair. 

Instead, the Sangheili came to an observation of his own. 

"Most Humans have clan names as well.. "family names." Last names?"

Of course. 

"Spartans were taken from our homes at a very early age. Illegally by Human standards andveearly enough that last names weren't something we remembered."

The Arbiter sat back up and looked John over for a second, then to his face. 

"By the Gods."

"It's not as bad as it sounds. For the Spartans, at least. Any of us could find out our last names now that the war is over. Even retire, if we wanted to."

"... I haven't wanted either. Obviously."

"You care too much about all of this for that. Or you've seen too much not to?" Thel guessed. 

"It's both." John answered promptly. 

"Hm."

He looked over to the armored Sangheili, who was once again staring at his bag - now at their feet. 

"What's in there?"

"My helmet.. I guess I needed it with me, tonight?" The man answered, leaning over to take the bag and place it on his lap. 

John brought the helmet out, spreading his legs to let its container fall unto the ground. 

Dr. Hasley wasn't exactly the type of woman who'd mind a little dirt, in more ways then one. 

It was an absent thought as his attention went to his own amber colored visor for the second time, tonight. 

"May I see it?" His friend asked suddenly. 

John looked to Thel and the open curiousity in his eyes as it hit him that he'd actually be glad to be rid of this thing, for a moment. 

"Just don't break it." He joked, holding the helm out in his hand for the Arbiter to take. 

His ally turned it around and over in clawed hands for a few seconds once he did, before ending up staring into the visor just as John had. 

"The color of most stars." Thel observed, turning back to his Human counterpart. "Spartans." Does that name mean anything?"

There was something that John could answer, although. "It's a long answer."

Thel just shrugged, helmet already placed between them. "I have time."

"Alright.." 

John wondered where to start as the Arbiter went on to pull his own helmet off with a low growl. It was startling in a small way. 

He'd never seen any Sangheili without headgear. 

The face was still just as reptilian but too solid to evoke the image of a lizard or a snake, almost blocky in an organic way.

Thel almost looked more like a dog or a shark, the way his head tapered over from the end of a long neck reminiscent of a horse. 

Dogs & horses. He decided he might as well just start talking. 

"Spartans were an old Human society named after the city-state they were from. "Sparta." At the time, all of Greece was set up that way."

"Like the way that Sanghelios is now." Thel observed, amusement in his voice. 

The alien man seemed to be happy at the chance to talk about their cultures & planets now that the Covenant was gone. 

John felt the same way. 

("Do you think we'll ever meet them?")

"If you're trying to say something, I'll make sure not to write a post action report about it." He settled on saying, smirking. 

"I'm honored." His friend told him, sharkish smile almost literal. "Go on?"

"Sparta was one of the most militant of the Greek states and fought their neighbors often but were also sometimes the cornerstone of alliances against foreign empires." Was Johns to the point summary of the ancient civilization. 

A quick, precise and formal way of summarizing things had never left him, from school or the UNSC - even if both had also influenced the Spartans usual, glibly informal speech. 

He enjoyed the latter more but sometimes wondered which was his real voice. Or if neither really was.

Whatever.

"They were good at what they did. It came at the cost of raising all of their men for war from the time they were boys, though. Killing children that were "weak," too."

Thel seemed hypnotized by this story of ancient Humanity, nodding a few times. The last sentence had him rear back though, head cocked to the side. 

"They killed the "weaker" of their young? Which ones?"

"The sick and deformed. Those that were "off." John told him, voice thoughtful and a bit bitter.

He'd met dozens of amazing soldiers who fit one or more of those categories in the last few decades. 

"Any that seemed like they wouldn't add to the military or state. I don't like the thought of it but don't the Elites do the same thing?"

The Arbiter snorted and shook his head. 

"It's true that those of our women who bear children are very careful about who the fathers are. Only those who have forefathers who did can wield swords. Sanghelios has a lot of rules about breeding. Family. ... Blood. Some of which I'm starting to think hold us back."

Thel took a breath. 

"We believe that strength and strengths can be passed on, as much as weakness. We don't kill "the weak," though. Not as youth. Weaker Sangheili still go through as many years of training as they can bear. There's domestic work from there. Reserve forces. Scouts. Strategists."

His tone was defensive now and John held his hands up, thinking of crippled Spartans who had marched through the field of science that had made and then broken them. 

"I didn't know."

That got him a sigh and the Arbiter waved him off. 

"I shouldn't blame you. I don't. We didn't give your kind or any species any reason to think that we'd work any other way."

John didn't want to throw a barb in but he had to say something. The Elites had been victims too, yet even so. 

"You could say that."

"Right.. speaking of which, though. From what I know of Humans?"

"Yes?"

"I wouldn't think a society like that would have their name shine in your history. Even for future warriors.''

"There was a battle. Thermopylae."

"Oh?"

"300 of them died defending a pass in the area from thousands on thousands of soldiers from the Persian Empire. That's the usual story. There were 700 Thespians, 400 Thebans and 900 helots from the rest of Greece, too. It was the last part of a longer battle."

"Yet at the end of it, the 300 Spartans - and their allies - died defending this pass." The Arbiter concluded. 

John spread his arms apart. So history goes.

"So, hundreds of years later the UNSC names their greatest after them." His friend pressed, still watching him. 

"Yes. Although they didn't name the Army or Marines "Thespians," somehow." 

The Sangheili and Human stared - more at each others faces then into each others eyes. 

It was connection without romance. 

"I think that all of it is still a proud heritage. Maybe not one to take pride in but a proud one, anyway."

That'd been his own opinion for a long, long time by now. Almost a decade, by now. 

He had a question. "Is that how you see Sanghelios and the Arbiters? With or without the Covenant."

Thel blinked. 

"Yes, actually."

John tipped his head a bit but continued to watch the other man, curious. He hadn't expected a conversation like this, whatever this was. 

"I am the Kaidon of the city-state-" Thel started to say, stressing that last phrase. 

"- of Vadum. Kaidons are those who lead a state & its individual family keeps. Vadum is where my heart beats the most. I'm the Arbiter as well, though. I'm expected to lead /all/ of the planets states to things they want and changes they don't. To have the good judgement to know which is which."

So he was president of his planet and his home town too, then? 

No one knew where he was from, although he was sure many wondered. 

"What kind of changes have other Elites disliked?"

"Working with Humans and your ideas." Was the first answer. 

"Unifying politically, instead of returning to in-fighting, now that the Covenant has fell. Freeing serfs of other species - or tolerating their workers, now that many of us need work. Realizing the Forerunners weren't Gods. Women are joining our armies. Some of us are coming to terms with medicine not being dishonorable. I'm for all of it. Many aren't. Many are."

"Our ways are growing on you." John observed. 

"No. Only to a point. Other species ways are only reminding us of what ours used to be like." The Arbiter said and quickly. 

John realized in an instant that plenty of Sangheili & Humans both must have said things like that to Thel and also that the Sangheili was completely right. It was something he didn't have to think about to understand how he knew.

All of it was sobering. The Spartan looked off to space, thinking of something. 

"Something good is coming out of the war then, at least. The galaxy is changing into a freer one."

"What about you? Are you changing with it?"

It was a good question. Especially from Thel Vadumee. 

"Slightly." John admitted. 

"I know that the UNSC's way of doing things isn't anymore Human - anymore Humane - then the Covenant or Forerunners. Cortanas. I still want to fight for Humanity, though. That hasn't changed."

"To think that we used to call you "Demons."

"Want to hear something funny?" The Chief asked him, almost instantly.

"Sure."

"/My/ Spartans have an eagle as a part of our logo. It's a type of bird that.. it's the one on the UNSCs logo, actually?"

Thel looked at him blankly for a few seconds and then blinked. "Oh! Yes. What about them?"

"They've symbolized different things for different empires. Freedom. Honor." "Power."

A coin toss, years and years ago. Cortanas voice in an alien nest. "It was the coins fault!"

The United States of America.. 

The United Nations Space Command. 

"Strength." He settled on. "The Spartan eagle holds three arrows in one talon and a lightning bolt in the other."

The man sighed and straightened up in his seat. 

"The helmet you wore when we met made you look like one." He admitted, ignoring the fact that this was one of the rare times his voice cracked and he was all of six years old again. 

Polly want a cracker? 

John mimed the shape of a beak with pointer and middle finger, then curved both down to make sure the image got across. 

Thel was just watching the movement and then slowly looked down to Johns own helmet, no doubt thinking of demons. 

There was that cross between hissing and laughing again, his hands gripping at his legs. 

"It's certainly something, Spartan." He agreed. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. 

"Kaidons. Arbiters."

Thel nodded. 

"Eagles. Spartans." 

He straightened up a bit himself and turned to show his chest. There was a brand there, of a symbol that John recognized as either Covenant or Forerunner runes. 

"The Mark of Shame. Given to me for the "crime" of allowing you to destroy the first Halo. For my failure to stop you. The Swords of Sanghelios wear it as a badge, now."

"I'm guessing that wasn't your idea, either."

Thel just gave him a knowing look, which was impressive considering the fact he was a talking lizard. 

"Were it so easy."

He reached out and placed his hand on Johns shoulder, leaning over. The skin was leathery. 

"What is it?"

"Cortana. I'm sure that she isn't too far gone, yet."

Christ. All he could do was sigh and let himself relax into the touch. It was new to have an Elite do this but who was he to care? 

"I'm hoping that she isn't."

"She was with you from the ring to Requiem. Don't give up hope. Your A.I. is a good woman, John."

The Master Chief nodded. A truer fact had never been spoken, so he decided to reach up and gently move Thels hand off. 

"I'd never give up on hope. It's just..

what I need right now is luck."

With that, he stood up. That was one thing he wasn't going to explain. 

"I'm going back to the camp." He told The Arbiter, feeling restless suddenly as he grabbed his helmet and kneeled down to stuff it in the bag. 

John stood up, letting himself look at the still seated Sangheili. 

"You might have luck already. With or without her." His friend said, staring up at him with an unspoken plea in his eyes. 

He'd know. 

"Oh, I know that I do." 

John paused and then patted Thel on the shoulder before walking off. 

He just knew the other Reclaimer wouldn't spare the contact a second thought and was looking at the stars instead of his back. 

Linda was a wreck during nights like this one. Besides him, she was probably the loneliest of the Spartan ll's. 

It'd be the right thing to offer her his company right now instead of trying to go to sleep. There was absolutely no way in hell that he'd be able to anytime soon, tonight. 

\--

"Remember us." As simple an order as a king can give. 

"Remember why we died."

For he did not wish tribute nor song... No monuments, no poems of war and valor. His wish was simple: "remember us," he said to me. That was his hope. 

Should any free soul come across that place, in all the countless centuries yet to be, may all our voices whisper to you from the ageless stones... 

"Go tell the Spartans, passer-by, that here?

by Spartan law, we lie." - Frank Miller

\----------------------------

"Oly oly oxen free!

We're all home,

in the free.

We're all free."


End file.
